


Exsanguination

by Snow (MurdocNiccals)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24318238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurdocNiccals/pseuds/Snow
Summary: The hopeful beginning of a series of request-based Akatsuki headcanons, one shots, minifics, and more. Sometimes dark, sometimes sweet, always as in-character as I can make them.Feel free to leave requests and critiques, and (hopefully) enjoy the read! No rules, all for the read!
Relationships: Akatsuki (Naruto)/Reader, Deidara (Naruto)/Reader, Hidan (Naruto)/Reader, Hoshigaki Kisame/Reader, Kakuzu (Naruto)/Reader, Sasori (Naruto)/Reader, Uchiha Itachi/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me at my new blog, Snugglejuice on Tumblr. I'll cross-post any requests I receive! Hopefully everyone enjoys!

> On the topic of hugs, affection, and the implication of it all. A quick start to get back into the writing rhythm, and get a feel for the characters I've obsessed over for the past decade. Enjoy! Feel free to leave requests in the comments, or over on my Tumblr (Snugglejuice).

##  **Itachi**

Itachi’s the least likely to hug out of everyone. That’s never been how he’s shown his affection- and honestly the odds are really not in your favour if you’re itching for anything like that from him.

The closest equivalent to a real embrace here lays in small gestures and very subtle kindness.

Hands brushing in passing, hard-earned and short-lived smiles; a rare heart to heart conversation, or a very powerful friend on the field when trouble finds you with him nearby- if you have _earned_ that level of intimacy from the Uchiha.

In all honesty there’s no time or reason to indulge in this kind of comraderie or flirtation as far as Itachi’s concerned. There was a time in his life where the room for that indulgence existed, but that time passed hard when he left the village.

His love and friendship is something so special, and so often unrewarding to even _try_ earning that you would really require a ton of integrity and fountains of patience to earn. The right to see him lower his guard around you is beyond sacred, and it’s very easy to lose that with even the slightest missteps. There is far too much on the line for him to risk something for the sake of a friend. His life is his village, his purpose is his brother. No person will ever be more important than either of those in his heart.

If you can work to befriend the man that lives to die, you can feel blessed that a man suffering so profoundly let you be his friend and comrade. No hug can ever trump that.

##  **Kisame**

Kisame loves the _idea_ of affection. Life is combat, and combat is his lot in life. He’s unbelievably powerful, and to almost any common person he’s terrifying to look at. Affection is so romanticized and unachievable to him that any gestures like that tend to get misconstrued or deeply scrtuinized. What are your ulterior motives? What kind of cruel joke are you trying to pull by giving him something so meaningful and fantasized?

Communication, trust, and honesty are _key_. Even when you have those, he’ll still probably second guess why you want to give him such intimacy. It takes a long time for him to get comfortable enough to reciprocate a hug, because he really needs to believe you aren’t just out here to make him a huge joke or conquest.

When he finally rewards you with that embrace though, it feels like pure safety and hope. His entire body engulfs you in a uniquely, contently, sheltering hug. You’re providing something he’s always wanted but never had- and if it’s possible for a hug to embody that, his does.

Kisame’s body heat is almost overwhelming; you can feel his strength in the way his biceps act as a vice around you. You can feel his heart, which flutters slightly faster surrounded in the uneasy joy he relishes in for the opportunity to trust and be trusted.

Once you break that dam, affection is a very private commonplace if you allow it to be. Crushing bearhugs, embraces that sweep you off your feet, swinging hugs that make you feel like you’re _flying_ – there’s so many different hugs, and so little time to experience them all.

If you want it to be plantonic, you need to communicate that. If you want something more, you need to be the one to break the ice and let that tentative sunshine in. Open the gates to long nights spent curled up in the safety of his heart, surrounded in the fierce devotion and loyalty that comes with having earned and reciprocated Kisame Hoshigaki’s trust.

The hugs are nice, but you learn quickly that the real reward is what you earned with the lonesome Monster of the Hidden Mist.

##  ** Hidan **

Hidan is the most casual hugger out of the group. No strings attached, swallowed self doubt or messy history that makes affection difficult for him. As far as these hugs go, they’re as easy as breathing for him. That doesn’t mean, however, that Hidan just opens his arms for anyone. There’s different hugs for different people and occasions.

Some follow the drunken high of a fight hard-won; others are just casual nothings to satisfy the itch and quench the desire for a little human contact. One-armed side hugs are probably his most common maneuver.

The real prize winners are the sudden lunges that trap your arms and make your ribs ache from the pure glee he just can’t keep balled up inside himself. It’s full of ugly, barking laughter and victorious shit-talk. If you aren’t thrown to the ground from the sheer force of it, Hidan has absolutely ripped you off your feet and taken you for the ride because he’s just too excited and in the moment to bother controlling himself.

If you’re someone he’s more intimate with, you do get to see Hidan more toned down and mellow. Intimacy isn’t something he’s well versed in _necessarily_ , but it absolutely comes natural to him. He tends to follow his feelings at any given moment, and behind closed doors he can be a real treat.

A lot of his desire in private lingers in the territory of non-sexual affection. He loves relaxing with his head in your lap and his arms hugging your midsection. As long as he can touch you he’s a pretty happy guy. He’s warm, and he provides a very comforting pressure in your lap.

He’ll speak his mind, ideally you indulge him with a fair response- and in return he’ll hear you out when you talk about whatever’s on your mind while he cozies in. It’s less of a quick embrace when he trusts you with moments like this- it’s really more of an event. If you play with his hair or massage his scalp he’s putty in your hands.

It may not be a long, strenuous road to earn the respect required for the Jashin devotee to give the gift of basic affection, but it’s still something to count your blessings for. The fact that you’re spared of the primal devastation that Hidan is capable of unleashing is a momentous achievment.

##  **Kakuzu**

Both touch-starved and repulsed; in his near century of life, Kakuzu’s fall from grace and subsequent defection was the killing blow to any living desire he ever had for even platonic contact.

It isn’t likely that Kakuzu is anyone’s first choice these days. It is even more deeply unlikely in the first place that he would indulge anyone with affection he just doesn’t desire himself. If you somehow caught him in a vulnerable enough place to experience that distant, numbing desire just to be touched, that hug is completely for his own benefit. You may get to partake in it, but it has nothing to do with your gratification or feelings.

The silence would be deafening when he makes his approach. The air almost awkward- like you shouldn’t be witnessing this moment despite your loose involvement.

Those inhuman eyes are sharp, but faraway through the apparent ceremony of the occasion. Kakuzu’s body is cold to the touch, and you can feel the stress rolling off of him in waves when those strong arms finally engulf you. Fingers twist into your clothes and hair, holding your ear above his heart- the one thing left alive that vigils his humanity. It’s borderline painful- almost a physical manifestation of feelings and experiences long abandoned.

Unless you’re truly in the moment, you could almost miss the bridge of his nose just barely nestling into the crown of your head- and the way his eyes fall shut when he lets himself just be. The embrace is long, and so deeply intimate and private. The only way to set the stage for this level of vulnerability to a man so scorned and jaded is absolute privacy and respect.

It’s desperate. It’s selfish. It’s the one thing he rarely lets himself have- because it’s just another old wound he doesn’t like ripping open. If you knew him- _really_ knew him, you would know it was always hard for him to allow this kind of stupid vulnerability. There may have been a time when it was easy, when he was young and loyal and _stupidly_ confident as Takigakure’s pride- the shinobi _destined_ to destroy the first Hokage. That time came and went before you ever existed.

It’s a treat to you, if you can bear the discomfort. It’s a throwback to days long forgotten for him. You don’t get bragging rights for doing it, and to any prying eyes it either never happened- or you were meaningless to Kakuzu. Ideally you know better than that. Understand that you rolled the dice and won the deck when he chose to include you in the scars and mess of his seldom vulnerability.

##  Deidara

Despite how it may otherwise seem, Deidara isn’t a very openly affectionate man- be that platonic or romantic. It isn’t because he hates the concept, the act, or what it implies. He’s just a man with sometimes ridiculous standards. In order for him to have any desire to accept or approach you for a hug he needs to first like you as a person, and as an extension needs to believe you’re worthy of the effort.

Are you pleasing to the eye? Will your silhouette overpower his? Most importantly, can he even tolerate your company in the first place? If he’s going to go give you the gift of his embrace, it needs to be under the circumstance of the perfect scene- at least initially.

It’s easy to assume a criminal and violent societal pariah would take what they can get- but Deidara is vain, cocky, and too proud to have given others the chance or experience to make him care about looking a little deeper than his own vanity.

Don’t assume however, that Deidara strives for common or conventional beauty. He’s an artist- and he has a special devotion to the distinct, novel, and remarkable. Bring your true self forward and bare it to his scrutiny. Have no fear, feel no shame, and be proud of what you are. Show him something he has never seen before. This is how you win his acceptance.

Then, when the scene is set and the time is right, he will open himself to you.

The cloak comes off, and what greets you are arms gilded in lean muscle to shepherd you into his waiting embrace. A single hand cradles the back of your head to guide your nose into the hollow center of his collarbones.

He eminates a perfect heat and the aroma of earth after a downpour. It is an embrace of pure dedication.

Curtains of hair shine like molten gold when they sweep over your shoulder to shield your tender visage from the prying eyes of the setting sun; a cheek glowing with the whispers of a smile would soon press into the crown of your head. Strangers that might witness the act could easily mistake it for the desperate embrace of two hearts destined to part.

If you happen to land into a romantic arrangement with Deidara, the drama and demand for such extravagance wouldn’t survive past that first hug. On the contrary, he’s an enthusiastic believer in public displays for the sake of pride and the overall convenience of it. His favourite hug is surprisingly basic.

In private you would more likely be invited to lay down and enjoy the moment with him. Lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart, let him comb his fingers through your hair and talk endlessly about life and the beauty of it.

If you can stand the immediately over the top and generally volatile nature of the desperate artist, you can let go of any doubt that you are beauty in the eye of the beholder.

##  Sasori

Sasori is a unique case, and an incredibly unique man. The human desire for basic connection was presumably abandoned with his flesh and blood- but the detached curiosity is something he likely wouldn’t deny himself.

That being said, you still need to have the ability to work yourself into the puppetmaster’s good graces. That alone is a tremendous task.

Sasori has less of an eye for aesthetic, and more of a deep-set respect and appreciation for one’s ability and power. There is nothing more beautiful than a person who persevered blood, sweat, and trauma to find their strength. That kind of gritty, enduring experience is breathtaking. It is the beauty that thrives in survival. That is how you earn the opportunity. Mean what you say, stand by your values and beliefs, and don’t be dramatic.

You will be the one that needs to approach him, because the thought won’t cross his mind unless you spark that interest. Don’t make it out to be more than what it is. He doesn’t want romance- for all intents and purposes, it’s just a waste of precious time.

When it happens, Sasori is still and silent. Almost like an animal trapped in a corner, his reaction is to simply accept it.

Your arms wrap easily around his slight frame- and all there is to feel is smooth, polished wood sitting lifeless against your chest. He’s a heatsink, save for the mess of hair that’s deceptively soft under your chin. The smell of varnish and something you can’t name is almost overwhelming.

If you aren’t lost in the moment you would feel long fingers wrap delicately over your biceps- like an anchor, desperate to keep him shrouded in the comfort of your body wrapped around him.

To a keen eye and decent empath, the bottomless hole of mourning would be a pain too massive to describe. A child’s pain long ignored, crying and trapped in an elaborate casket. Tremendous suffering, never to be mended.

At the very least, you will have been the lone provider of any kind connection that Sasori has ever acknowledged- and that is a hollow old wound to open again.

Understand the overwhelming miracle it is that even for that moment, you were given the chance to grant solace to the suffering Scorpion of the Red Sand. For now at least, the horror of his art came second to the companionship you granted him.


	2. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr request; Itachi/Reader - Deidara/Reader - Drabbles.
> 
> i was hoping i could maybe request itachi and deidara coming home to dinner? like everything’s all prepped, table’s set, let’s just get your cloak off and relax. please and thank you!!

##  Itachi

Home. Where one lives, as a member of family or household. A word and meaning both distant and numbed, nudged into a hopeful ember in the seldom evenings he had the chance to venture a visit with  _ you _ . 

The journey was never short, but always worth the time to get a taste of the warmth you brought him. 

A cottage buried in nature and life, nestled just into the border of the Land of Fire. The smell of blooming flowers and baking sweets always beckoned him closer to your humble little home in the trees. It was like a blanket of comfort and safety, hidden from the rest of the world.  _ Just for him _ . The Uchiha always gave himself a moment to soak it in; basking in the falling sunlight on the well-worn stairs leading to your door, surrounded in the distant murmur of loving music sung just a breath away.

It always took you some time to notice he’d arrived, but he knew when the lilting chime of hums and chirping lyrics stopped that you finally felt his lonesome company. There was a sweet excitement soaked into every word you cried out to him, when you’d finally realized he had arrived. A desperate greeting, followed by the drum of pounding feet on old wooden floors served as his only warning before that creaky old door would slam open to your eager arms that never failed to knock the wind out of him when you would finally collide. 

The smell of honey and herbs poured off of you, drowning his senses from your place clung against his filthy old cloak. If he had a home to speak of, your arms were the closest comparison he could name. Gone were the days of family- of Mikoto and Fugaku-- the memories your love brought him were bittersweet, but the way you held him never failed to stave off that pain until his later departure.

You always had a surprise waiting for him- he never failed to appreciate that sheepish little smile that swelled the apples of your cheeks when you’d pull away from his chest and grab his hands to drag him inside to showcase your hard work. Everything you did for him was so saturated in love and hope, it was hard not to smile at the lengths you went just to make him happy- if only for the evening. 

Sometimes it was a bouquet curated from the endless fields of flowers that dotted your forest, or sweet dumplings freshly made and rolled by hand. Tonight though, was  _ special _ . A celebration of sorts, you explained, to commemorate Itachi walking into your life. What awaited him in your dining room was… a  _ banquet. _

You walked him through some of your week’s labour; Hand-pounded mochis nearly bursting with fresh peaches, soft cakes drizzled in syrups and full of custard creams- all the way down to the prize of the feast.Tuna belly, radish salad, baked sweet potato, and a hearty rice stew. An impossible bounty, especially for someone so far cast from any community. How you managed it, Itachi would never know- but at the very least he could plainly see the effort and work poured into this heartwarming, mouthwatering surprise.

Watching his face shift from various subtle expressions- surprise, sadness, love, grief, and comfort was all the reward you would ever need. It’s easy to anticipate the soft thanks murmured by the lone rogue. A surprise to you was the gentle hand sliding around your back to guide you once again into Itachi’s heart.

“Thank you- for all of this, S/O.” His arms shook with a grief you could never understand, as he cradled you for just a few moments more. “ _ Thank you. _ ”

  
  


##  Deidara

A man born of the Earth, molded by the soil and refined by a power devastating and explosive. Deidara has never had a place he considered home; never a person so dear to his heart, nor a place near to his soul to call his own. You were a cataclysm event, bursting into his life and vanishing as you pleased- like a towering wave, looming just out at sea. You were the closest thing to home he’s ever experienced- a kinship, and an intimate understanding of the dance you both took place in. 

You never lingered long in one place, but Deidara never failed to find you, no matter where you’d wandered.

Home for now was a shanty little hut, nestled into jagged stone overlooking the whirlpools and waves that licked at the beach you’d settled on for the time. He could smell the comforting smoke of burning brush thrown into a bonfire, and the salt evaporating from the water you left to purify. Seaweed, savoury spices, and the sharp aroma of fish freshly butchered lay just beneath the drowning orchestra of scents that surrounded your camp.

You didn’t greet him until he settled by the smouldering hearth and produced a gleaming something; a gift, curated in his travels. The sight of your crooked smile filled his heart with something close to longing. You, much like him, were a spirit none could tie down. 

He was patient, as you adjusted the soot-blackened pot resting in the heart of the fire, and eventually rolled to your feet to finally- finally bid him hello. It was his favourite part of seeing you- to have you toe nearer and nearer, your step silent as death, and engulf him in the strength and desire of your arms. To have you drop, care-free, into his lap and murmur your greetings through a kiss pressed, wet and cold, to his burning cheeks chased his heart closer yet to combustion. 

It was rare to see you go out of your way for him, but the kindness you guarded so fiercely was plain to see when you pushed his cloak down and off his aching shoulders and motioned so casually over your own- to that beat up cooking pot, boiling and bubbling and pouring waves of mouthwatering  _ something _ into the breeze rolling past him. 

You’d claim you were feeling ‘homey’, as you pulled away to serve him a modest portion of your hunt and scavenge. Fish broth, pickled vegetables, fried squid, and a flavourful sticky rice, tucked away in dented metal bowls; a generous meal, prepared haphazardly for the deserter himself.

Deidara never asked questions, rarely did he utter his thanks for the small acts of love you showed him. You could see it though, in the little things he did for you. Thoughtful gestures, meaningless baubles and presents, heated embraces, drunken smiles and whispered promises, and the murmured assurances you were never meant to hear. 

Over a shared meal you could touch his soul, and let the young artist relax and unwind away from the terror he inflicted on the world outside of your gloomy beach. The meal was never the gift, not quite like your loving touches and hellfire company ever were. 

When the meal is gone, and the fire’s burnt out, he returns the kindness in beckoning you back to his empty lap and holding you prisoner in his desperate arms. Much like your lover, you come into existence and leave in a brilliant flash. For just one night, he hopes to make it last. 

You have a piece of each other close to your hearts- and where you went, he was always sure to follow.


End file.
